


Three makes a Family

by Merwin_Me



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Cuddling, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Hale Family - Freeform, Minor Character Death, Multi, Nightmares, Off-screen, Talia bashing, Underage - Freeform, fostering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-05 02:37:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15854499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merwin_Me/pseuds/Merwin_Me
Summary: “Can you tell me why you came here tonight? Did one of them say something you didn’t like?”“No, nothing like that. They’re nice.”That was a new one. Stiles hadn’t liked any of his previous foster families from the start. In fact, the Hales were already his longest stay since the Sheriff had died, and Danny had been quietly hoping that Stiles would finally be able to find some stability again.





	Three makes a Family

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KiraH69](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiraH69/gifts).



Talia Hale had made the news again.

 

This in itself was not an unusual thing to happen, even before she and her ex-husband, Joseph Hale, split up. But after the divorce, her appearances in the papers had changed. The woman was rarely seen smiling in any candid shots, reflecting the changes in the subjects of any articles about her.

 

Before the divorce, the Hale Clan matriarch had been an upstanding member of the Beacon County community, volunteering whenever she could and she was an outspoken women’s rights activist. Her career as an author didn’t take off as well as her standing in the community; her chosen subjects could be classified as controversial - at best - in the modern world.

 

The community hadn’t let her books stop them from rallying around her when the whispers of an impending divorce - with just a whiff of scandal around the corner for the vultures to scent - had started up.

 

They didn’t have to contend with just whispers for very long, though. One day Talia and Joseph Hale were spotted walking inside the courthouse, not even pretending to walk side by side, only for them to come out an hour later, divorce papers in their hands and immediately splitting up to go their separate ways.

 

People had gathered around Talia immediately, and the newly divorced woman had been all too happy to indulge in the rumors of a scandal.

 

Apparently, her husband had filed for a divorce, citing that he had found another and wanted nothing to do with Talia anymore. And with his quick departure, Joseph hadn’t been able to dispel those earlier rumors.

 

The rumors didn’t linger around town for very long. The first time someone saw Joseph and Peter -  _ Talia’s brother! _ \- walk hand in hand down the street, well. At least three people grasped dramatically for their hearts, while others immediately started calling their friends.

 

For weeks, the two stoic looking men were near pariahs in Beacon Hills, always quick to dodge out of the view of Talia and her many friends when they were spotted.

 

Until one day, when Talia had been out with her kids. They had all been walking through Beacon Hill’s only shopping mall when they crossed paths with Joseph and Peter. The two men seemed happy to ignore Talia, but it was not to be.

 

Everyone in the group looked up, however, when one of Talia’s friends had gasped dramatically - as they did every time they saw the two men.

 

“What?” Derek grouched, pushing his hands further into his pockets. “Never seen two men holding hands before?”

 

Talia’s friends had sputtered, before one of the other ladies that were with them spoke up, gently laying a hand on his shoulder; or at least attempting to, though she gave up when Derek dodged her attempts by deftly manoeuvring a glaring Cora between them.

 

“It’s not that, dear boy,” Her slightly condescending tone had Laura blinking before she started to pay closer attention to what was happening. “It is just unbelievable that he would harm dear Talia in such a way, and flaunt it like this. Why, he had seemed like such a hone-”

 

“What?” Laura cut the woman off, turning slightly so she was standing in front of the group, looking straight at the woman who had spoken. “What the hell are you talking about?”   
  
Talia tried to shush her, but it was to no avail. Laura was a nineteen-year-old Werewolf, set to take up the role of Alpha when her mother would step down. She was not going to be silenced, especially when it was about her dad. It didn’t hurt that  she was a rebellious teenage girl who loved her dad very much.

 

“My dad,” Laura made sure the enunciate, voice loud and clear, cutting through the noise around them, “never cheated on my mother. My dad came out to my mother as bisexual, and mother vilified him for it. Yes, dad cared for Uncle Peter. No, they aren’t blood-related. No, dad never cheated on mom. My dad has done nothing wrong.”

 

Her cheeks flushed from her passionate speech, Laura abruptly turned around, and hurried over to where Joseph and Peter were clinging to each other a little tighter than before, eyes wide.

 

“I don’t get why you’re all blaming dad. It’s like none of you have ever  _ read _ any of mom’s work.” Derek’s permanent scowl deepened a little, before he went to join his sister, his dad, and his uncle.

 

“Newsflash, weirdos. Mom’s a homophobe.” Cora flipped her hair over her shoulder, and stalked off as well with a muttered: “Feels good to finally say it.”

 

The three youngest Hales would return to the Hale house later the day, where most of their family lived and where they were going to get a dressing down from Talia - which none of them would listen to.

 

But until that time, they would stay with their dad and their uncle. The next day, they started working on dispelling the rumors they hadn’t realized had spread so far, fast, and wild. Until then, they would be reassuring Joseph and Peter that  _ they _ had nothing against them, or their relationship.

 

\--

 

Joseph and Peter hadn’t gone into their relationship with the expectation of kids - or more kids where it concerned Joseph. Peter himself was just happy that he finally got to be with Joseph after years of wondering and doubting whether his affections were even being noticed.

 

Joseph, well, he was just happy to finally be in a relationship where he could relax, where he didn’t constantly have to put on a face and play the perfect husband. He loved his children, and they had most certainly been a point of uncertainty - did he really want to put them through a divorce? - but when he had sat down and actually thought about it, his children were the  _ only _ good thing to come out of his marriage.

 

That, and meeting Peter of course.

 

So when they were finally able to get together, they didn’t wait long after Joseph’s signature had dried on the divorce papers.

 

Together, they bought a pair of lofts, taking down the wall between them to turn it into one large apartment, moving in together before the month was out. 

 

Though there were a couple of extra bedrooms they put in, just in case Cora, Derek, or Laura wanted to come around, none of the kids chose to actually live with their dad. They had more than enough free space in the Hale compound - free from their mother as well, and none of them were idiots when it concerned two people new in a relationship that had been a long time coming.

 

They loved their dad and their uncle, but that was something they emphatically did not want to hear, let alone smell.

 

So them fostering and adopting Stiles after his father was killed while attempting to stop a jewelry store robbery, could be fully blamed on a gleeful Peter.

 

\--

 

Peter was only in the police station to drop off some paperwork when the front doors slammed open to reveal Stiles Stilinski, the son of the recently deceased sheriff. He was followed by two deputies, who looked at the teenager with a mixture of exasperation and pity.

 

The boy completely ignored the deputies, moving to sit on the bench just outside of the sheriff’s office.

 

Part of him wanted to approach the boy, but his crossed arms and turned down look made it quite clear that Stiles didn’t want to be approached. What kept Peter from leaving though, was the woman walking out of the sheriff’s office, a kind smile plastered on her face.

 

And well, Peter wasn’t in favor of leaving any impressionable kids with his sister. That, and the fact that the kid’s face when he saw her promised a show, made him lurk in a corner.

 

“Stiles - may I call you Stiles?” Talia asked, crouching down in front of the boy..

 

“No.”

 

His snapped response had Talia flounder a little in surprise, though none of the deputies looked like they had expected a different answer, before she continued - ignoring the answer.

 

“The deputies are worried about you, Stiles. You’ve run away from every foster family so far, and they’re not quite sure what other options they can provide you.”

 

“Well,” Stiles snapped back, the fury in his eyes causing Talia to lean back a bit, clearly surprised at his tone, “maybe I wouldn’t run away if they stopped trying to be my parents and take me off my meds.”

 

Talia tried to grasp one of Stiles’ hands, but it just got tucked further into his side, the frown on his face deepening at the attempt.

 

“I have spoken with the Sheriff.” Talia finally said, not seeming to notice the flinch that went through Stiles at that, and she rose to her feet again. “I would like to take you in and foster you. Your father was a friend of mine, and I believe you are in the same class as my daughter, Cora.”

 

For a long moment, the incredulous look on Stiles’ face perfectly mirrored Peter’s feelings. He was then one of the few people currently present that was unsurprised when the boy’s expression soured.

 

“You were political friends with my dad, nothing more. Besides, why the hell would I want to stay with a homophobic...lady?” It was clear that ‘lady’ was not the word Stiles was wanting to use. “I’m gayer than a pride parade, Miss Hale. I’d rather get fostered by a three-year-old  _ toddler _ .”

 

Peter didn’t manage to keep his snort silent, and half the station turned to look at him. His sister looked especially insulted, and that was more than enough for Peter to grin gleefully.

 

“I like you, kid! How do you feel about living with a different pair of Hales?”

 

Talia’s ‘ _ what?! _ ’ went ignored when Stiles’ head snapped up to look at Peter, surprised. Seeing the serious, though still gleeful, look in Peter’s eyes, had Stiles nodding slowly.

 

For him, everything was better than going back to foster families like the Laheys. There was something wrong in that house, and he had made sure to tell the deputies so.

 

And well, Stiles had heard of Peter and Joseph Hale, and the mess that was the fallout of Joseph and Talia’s divorce. His dad had seemed to be firmly on the side of No-Side, though he had made sure that no one actually harassed the new couple.

 

But they were one of the first older, openly gay couples in Beacon Hills, and even Stiles could see that the two men loved each other when he happened to see them in the library or at a coffee shop.

 

So the possibility of being fostered by them? Well, it didn’t look as bleak as being fostered by  _ Talia Hale _ . Stiles would take the chance with both hands, and if it turned out to be a mistake, well. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d run away.

 

Joseph was only a little surprised - and a lot amused - when Peter came back home from his supposedly short trip to the police station with a foster kid attempting to hide behind him.

 

But Joseph felt for the kid, and he had known John Stilinski, a lot better than his ex-wife had. So he backed Peter’s spontaneous decision to foster Stiles, and hoped that together they’d be able to offer the kid the home and stability he had lost with his father.

 

\--

 

Danny woke up with a start when the window to his room slid open, and he sat up even as he watched Stiles slip into his room, before closing the window again.

 

“Did I wake you?” Stiles whispered softly, before grimacing as he took in the red letters of Danny’s alarm. They were blinking 02:37 into the otherwise dark room. He definitely woke Danny up.

 

“Stiles?” Danny rubbed the sleep from his eyes, knowing from previous experience that Stiles slipping into his room in the dead of night meant something was up. And considering that in the past it had meant something happened with the foster family he had been put with, Danny wanted to be awake, to either be a listening ear or pound some sense into him. “Stiles, what happened?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

Instead of elaborating, Stiles crawled in bed beside Danny, burrowing into his side and hiding his face.

 

That was a different reaction than Danny had gotten previously, whenever Stiles had run away from foster families for a variety of reasons: none of them pretty.

 

“Can you tell me why you came here tonight?” Danny tried softly, pulling Stiles close in a hug even as he felt Stiles attempt to disappear into him. “Did one of them say something you didn’t like?”

 

“No, nothing like that. They’re nice.”

 

That was a new one. Stiles hadn’t liked any of his previous foster families from the start. In fact, the Hales were already his longest stay since the Sheriff had died, and Danny had been quietly hoping that Stiles would finally be able to find some stability again.

 

Because all this constant moving around, trying to find his footing in countless different homes, was taking its toll on Stiles. But recently, Danny had noticed Stiles becoming a little less closed off, talking easier, and seeming to get back on a somewhat normal sleeping schedule.

 

The Hales were doing good, so Danny was a little confused as to what made Stiles run off in the middle of the night.

 

It also made him wonder how long it’d take for them to start to panic and set up a search for Stiles, because they seemed like the kind of people who would go all out. So the sooner Danny could get the actual reason behind Stiles coming to him to hide out of him, the sooner Danny could, hopefully, work to stay on the Hale’s good side.

 

“They’re just really nice.” Stiles continued without any further prompting. “They got my prescription sorted out again, and they let me stay in my room when I...yeah.” The ‘when memories of my dad hit me hard and I need to cry alone’ was silent but definitely not unheard. “They don’t expect things from me. They don’t get angry when I can’t finish a chore, or when I can’t finish dinner, or when I can’t get dressed. They’re...they’re just really nice, Danny. And I don’t-”

 

Stiles cut himself off, hiding his face in Danny’s pillow. Danny let him hide for now, turning the many things Stiles had just told him over in his head. Pretty much everything was a complete contrast to how his previous foster families had acted. None of them had given Stiles the space to grieve, or even silently acknowledged that memories could hit and cripple Stiles at random moments - even if that was just because of a chore.

 

Unlike the other foster families, Joseph and Peter Hale actually seemed to  _ care _ . And that was exactly what was bothering Stiles, Danny realized. He liked the two men, and he felt bad for liking them, for liking to live with them, for feeling cared for like actual family.

 

“You don’t want them to like you?” Danny pushed, even though he knew that was not the case.

 

Stiles’ head shot up, eyes wide.

 

“No, I do! But I don’t - I can’t -  _ Danny _ .” Stiles pleaded with him, trying to convey what he meant without actually saying it. Not that he needed to, Danny knew exactly what Stiles was trying to say.

 

“You don’t want them to replace your dad.” A soft sob had Danny tightening his arm around Stiles’ shoulder. “Oh Stiles. No, look at me Stiles, please?” Danny waited patiently until Stiles had turned his head up a little, watery eyes looking at him while still attempting to hide as much as possible.

 

“No one can ever replace your dad. And I can assure you that they aren’t going to try to do that. Don’t look at their kindness like that, think of it as them offering you a home, a safe space. And give them a chance, really give them a chance.”

 

Danny gave Stiles a few long moments to let his words sink in, before looking at the time, wincing just a little. The Hales were sure to be worried sick by now.

 

“Come on, I can go and wake mom or dad, and we’ll drive you back, how about that?”

 

It took another half an hour before Danny had finally managed to convince Stiles to go back. Waking his parents, it only took a few whispered words for them to understand that Stiles had once again come to their son - only to feel relief that Stiles seemed to want to go back to the Hales.

 

They had been Stiles’ pillar before, when he had come to Danny to hide, and they had been ready to foster Stiles themselves. They had actually been planning on approaching Stiles, when the Hales scooped him up.

 

So even though it was 04:00 in the morning, Danny’s mom pulled on some clothes before ushering the boys to her car, driving slightly above the speed limit.

 

Neither Danny nor his mom was surprised that the lights were on inside the loft, and Danny’s mom just gave Stiles a tight hug before she watched as her son led Stiles to the front door.

 

Both Mahealanis felt something in them ease, relief flooding them, when the doors opened and Stiles was immediately smothered in a hug by two seriously sleep-deprived men.

 

Danny would come back in the morning, sit down with the men and talk about Stiles’ insecurities - warning them against trying to take his father’s place - but Danny was satisfied for now, seeing Stiles relax in the hug.

 

It was about time that Stiles found a family who would care for him like he deserved.

 

\--

 

Over the next couple of months, Joseph and Peter were relieved to see that Stiles was finally learning that he could trust them not to fuck up - not to deprive him of food, not to take his medication away from him or, as they had been horrified to learn, lock him up in a turned-off freezer for the night.

 

They had immediately double checked that yes, the senior Lahey was still locked up, though Stiles had said that it was more than worth having a couple of panic attacks if it meant that Isaac would be safe for the night.

 

Isaac, they had checked for Stiles, had been adopted by the McCall family which consisted of a son and a mother - no father even near the picture.

 

But even though Stiles was no longer sneaking out of the house at odd hours, not everything was going well yet. Stiles still had a lot of problems opening up about anything, no matter how minor or how important it might be.

 

The only reason why he had even asked after Isaac’s whereabouts, had been because Joseph had caught Stiles in the middle of a panic attack, staring at the empty freezer they had stored in one of their empty rooms.

 

They had been meaning to throw the thing out for a while now, as it had broken and been replaced a while back, but then they started fostering Stiles and it got shuffled to the back along with some other renovations and changes they had planned.

 

Stiles had explained the cause of his panic attack after Joseph had slowly eased him out of it, helping him calm his breathing again even as he managed to deftly steer him out of the room and away from the freezer.

 

After that panic attack and reveal of some of his previous experiences with foster families, Stiles had closed off again. When they had asked him how he was doing the next day, he had just shrugged, grabbed breakfast, and gone upstairs to do homework.

 

And they didn’t want to push him, so they left him to it.

 

It all came to a head nearly a year after they had started fostering, a month after they had started wondering how to broach the topic of adoption to Stiles without trying to seem like they were trying to replace his dad.

 

Especially when they didn’t really feel like his parents. They lived together, and Joseph and Peter loved Stiles, loved having him in the house, loved being able to provide for the boy. But Joseph didn’t see Stiles as another son, and Peter definitely didn’t think of Stiles as his kid.

 

It was confusing whenever they attempted to explain it to one another, so there was no chance in hell they were going to try to explain it to Stiles before they were sure what exactly they were feeling, in fear of hurting him.

 

Then one night, Joseph and Peter nearly kicked each other right in the crotch when they were awoken by an ear-shatteringly loud scream. Eyes glowed blue and gold, fangs digging into their lips as they looked around the room, searching for the enemy.

 

Only to be interrupted once more by a scream, which wore off into harsh sobs, the sound of thrashing coming through loud and clear even through the soundproofed walls.

 

Pulling back their wolves enough that their decidedly non-human features were no longer showing - as this was no way to reveal the secret to Stiles - Joseph and Peter made their way over to Stiles room.

 

For a moment, they paused.

 

They had made it very clear from the moment they had taken Stiles in, that the room was his. That meant that it was his safe place, the room he could retreat to if he needed it, and that he could decorate it however he wanted.

 

It also meant that it was up to him to keep it clean, but if he wasn’t able to do it that week for whatever reason, Stiles was free to ask them for help, or skip it for that week.

 

It all meant that they had only gotten glimpses of the room so far. It seemed odd to some friends and family when Joseph and Peter shut them down on even attempting to go and get Stiles from his room, but they didn’t want to compromise Stiles’ safe space.

 

A cry cut through their thoughts, loud enough that it probably hurt Stiles’ throat, and they made a quick decision.

 

“I’ll make some tea.” Peter hissed through his teeth. He didn’t want to leave them alone, he definitely wanted to be there with Joseph, but he also didn’t want to overwhelm Stiles. And as much as it pained him to think so, Joseph did have more experience with teenagers and their nightmares.

 

Though from the sound of this one, it was more likely a twisted memory Stiles was trapped in - likely one involving his dad.

 

As Joseph eased open the door to Stiles’ room, Peter rushed to the kitchen to make some tea and add in a bit of coffee liquor and honey to help Stiles go back to sleep after, hopefully without any more nightmares.

 

Hearing more than seeing Peter leave reluctantly, Joseph walked into Stiles’ room.

 

It felt odd to be able to say that this was the first time he had set foot inside the room since Stiles had moved in, and Joseph couldn’t help but cast a quick look around. The room looked cleaner than his kids’ rooms had been when they were Stiles’ age - and definitely a lot cleaner than the pigsty that was disguised as Cora’s room.

 

His laptop was closed in the middle of his desk, books lined up back against the wall and stacked on top one another. Curiously, there was a stack of what looked like filled-in leather notebooks that if Joseph checked, he would be sure to find filled with handwriting.

 

Stiles’ closet was open, clothes stacked and folded, not the unsorted mess Joseph had learned to expect. That didn’t mean there weren’t about two changes of clothes stacked on Stiles’ chair, but aside from that, the room looked clean.

 

Almost methodical.

 

Taking in the room had only taken Joseph a short moment, and when his eyes fell on Stiles, he immediately rushed to the side of the bed. Stiles was thrashing, stuck in the throes of a nightmare and tangling himself up in the sheets as he moved around.

 

Deciding against grabbing Stiles’ shoulder in an attempt to shake him awake, keeping in mind what he knew about his past foster families, Joseph crawled on the bed, quickly moving to sit with his back against the headboard.

 

As he moved, he tugged Stiles up just a little so that he could put the boy’s head on his lap, hissing quietly as Stiles’ wrist hit the headboard with a painful sounding thwack.

 

“Stiles, kid, wake up. It’s a dream, Stiles, you’re safe. It’s just a dream.” Though the words were mostly meaningless, Joseph hoped his voice would be able to pull Stiles back from his nightmare.

 

When that didn’t seem to work, or maybe it did and they just didn’t penetrate through the haze of fear and mental anguish Stiles was stuck in fast enough, Joseph started carding his hands through Stiles’ hair, dragging his nails over his scalp gently.

 

The sudden sensation which hadn’t been there before caused Stiles’ body to twist, cry getting stuck in his throat and ending in a confused sounding whine.

 

For a moment, Joseph’s eyes flashed as Stiles sounded so much like a pup in distress, begging for help with just a little noise.

 

“There you go.” Joseph murmured, letting a low, soothing purr rumble through his chest even as he continued combing through Stiles’ hair and brushing the few sweaty strands of hair back from his forehead.

 

As Joseph continued talking and petting Stiles, the boy slowly stopped trashing. His eyelids fluttered a little before opening, wet and tired eyes blearily taking in the dark room.

 

Joseph knew the moment Stiles realized he hadn’t woken up on his own when he felt the boy stiffen beneath his hands, growing tense in confusion.

 

“It’s alright Stiles, it’s just me, Joseph. It’s alright, you’re safe now, kid, you’re safe here.”

 

Tilting his head back, Stiles looked up at Joseph, blinking the tears from his nightmare away.

 

“Wha - where is - he was just-” Stiles tried to pull away from where his head was laying cushioned on Joseph’s legs to look around the room, but Joseph pressed down gently on his shoulders. He didn’t want Stiles to get worked up more than he already was, so he kept up his soothing motions, getting copious amounts of scenting done at the same time.

 

“Stiles, there’s no one else here. Peter is in the kitchen making tea, he’ll be in soon if you don’t mind. It’s just the three of us here, I promise you.”

 

“But he was just here.” Stiles whispered, no longer fighting against Joseph’s soft but insistent hands, instead burrowing his face into Joseph’s leg just a bit.

 

“Can you tell me who, exactly, Stiles?”

 

For a long moment, Stiles didn’t answer. One hand reached up from beneath the cover to grab Joseph’s ankle, digging in blunt nails to find some grip, searching for a little more stability.

 

The grip on his ankle tightened a little, though Stiles wouldn’t be able to hurt him, when the door slid open and Peter stepped inside.

 

“I bring tea with honey.” Peter muttered, making no move to further enter the room, trying to give Stiles the choice in whether he would be allowed further into his sanctuary or not.

 

Stiles squinted at Peter for a bit, before his grip loosened again even as he nodded slightly. As Peter moved to sit on the edge of the bed, nearer to Joseph than to Stiles no matter how much he wanted to crowd protectively around the boy, Stiles looked up at Joseph again.

 

“The man who ki-” Stiles stuttered a bit, averting his eyes as tears gathered in the corners, before pushing on. Even though the wolves had a good idea of what Stiles was about to say now. “The man who killed my dad. I see him - I see him everywhere. He’s in my dreams, and in my nightmares. And sometimes he’s a teacher, or a social worker, or a - a damn foster parent. And I don’t  _ know _ .” The last word sounded angry, but defeated, as if talking about a battle he had already lost.

 

“What is it you don’t know, Stiles?”

 

“What happened to him!” This was practically shouted, before Stiles sagged back on the mattress, all fight leaving his body again.

 

Joseph and Peter shot each other incredulous looks, unbelieving of what they were hearing. How was it that no one had told Stiles yet of what had happened to the man who had killed his dad? They had been under the assumption that either the deputies or else someone from his previous foster homes would have told him.

 

Or maybe even the therapist Stiles had been forced to see by foster family #2 for a month.

 

But for no one to have given Stiles that closure yet - for them to have failed to do so either. That wouldn’t stand.

 

“We can tell you, if you really want to know, Stiles.” Peter spoke up, and Stiles’ eyes focused on him with a laser-like intensity.

 

“What?”

 

“We know what happened to him.” Joseph added, hoping that if Stiles did become angry, it wouldn’t all be focused on Peter as being the first one to speak up about it.

 

“You do? You - please? I need to know, please?” Instead of becoming angry, Stiles just seemed to become quietly hopeful, and Joseph wondered just how often Stiles was being haunted by the ghost of a man he didn’t know and had never even met.

 

If knowing what had happened to him could help Stiles even a little bit, they weren’t going to keep him wondering and fearing forever.

 

“He chose death by cop, Stiles.” Peter spoke bluntly, and Joseph quietly looked at the ceiling for patience. That wasn’t how he would have put it. He’d probably have tried to at least bring it a little better, word it differently, test out the waters as he was responding.

 

But then again, Peter did have the ability to read Stiles rather well, as was proven when Stiles huffed out a surprised breath, looking from Peter to Joseph. Looking for reassurance that Peter was telling the truth, and not just telling him what he thought Stiles wanted to hear.

 

“He did. The deputies caught up with him when he was about to rob a liquor store, and the guy pulled a gun. Recent events-” The sheriff’s murder “-were still fresh in their minds. There is no doubt that he is very much dead, Stiles.”

 

“He’s gone?”

 

Though it sounded like a question, it clearly wasn’t one they were expected to answer, and Joseph just quickly pulled Stiles up a little. The boy moved with him easily, and let himself be manipulated until he was leaning against Joseph’s chest.

 

Stiles’ grasped the mug that Peter gently pressed into his hands, choking at the first sip when the warm, thick taste of tea mixed with liquor and honey touched his lips. Smacking his lips as he felt the first sip settle in his stomach, Stiles decided that he liked how the liquid seemed to warm him up all over, clearing the last of the shakiness from the nightmare away.

 

Joseph set his chin on top of Stiles’ head, one arm curled loosely around Stiles’ middle as he offered silent support while Stiles slowly relaxed. Peter, though more than a little jealous of the closeness between Joseph and Stiles right now, wishing he could offer the same support, settled for making sure his leg lined up with Stiles’ from where he sat on the bed.

 

They waited while Stiles finished off the tea, the alcohol settling into his stomach as the warmth spread, causing Stiles’ eyelids to start drooping again.

 

Drowsiness was clearly hitting Stiles, and Joseph started to gently ease Stiles back down, letting Peter take the empty mug from Stiles’ loose fingers.

 

“Come on kid, try to get some more sleep, yeah? And if you can’t, you can always come to our room or go to Peter’s study, if you want.”

 

Stiles muttered something that could’ve either been a protest or an agreement, but it was so muffled and lost between a haze of near-sleep, that Joseph chose to ignore it. Even if he had addressed the muttering, it wouldn’t have done any good, as the second he had tucked Stiles in, the boy was gone.

 

“Do you want to stay with him for a bit?” Joseph asked, sounding strained, and Peter frowned at him, a little confused.

 

“I figured out what he is. To me, at least.”

 

Peter just blinked at him, before scenting the air to get an idea of what Joseph was talking about. The scent of arousal, lust, love, and want was almost thick enough to choke him, and Peter was certain that the only reason he hadn’t noticed it before was that he had been so focused on Stiles.

 

And even if he had noticed, he still would’ve given Stiles all his attention, because the boy had clearly needed it. And because it was  _ Stiles _ .

 

“Well.” Peter muttered under his breath even as they both left the room, keeping the door open just a little. “It’s about time you caught up.”

 

Peter left Joseph standing in the middle of the hallway sputtering silently to himself, while Peter went back to their bedroom to try and get some more sleep.

 

Honestly, Joseph could be so slow sometimes.

 

\--

 

Joseph and Peter had broached the topic of adoption a week after the nightmare. They had half expected Stiles to pull away from them after the emotional night, but almost the complete opposite had happened.

 

The morning after the nightmare, Stiles had spent most of the day in Peter’s study, quietly reading through Peter’s many books on mythological creatures - all factual even though Stiles didn’t know that yet.

 

When Peter had gotten up to get something to drink, Stiles had silently followed him, a little hesitant, as if Peter was going to tell him to stop following him wherever he went. And even though Peter had been more than a little surprised at the sudden clinginess, he hadn’t minded it.

 

Rather, he’d been preening just a little at the attention Stiles was paying him, silent though it was. It was also a relief that it wasn’t just Joseph he was clinging to now, as Joseph had been the one there when he woke up from his nightmare.

 

It would have hurt if Stiles had gravitated to one of them more than the other, because they both cared for Stiles so damn much.

 

However, just because Stiles clung to Peter during the day, didn’t mean that he didn’t follow Joseph around just as much when Joseph came home from work in the late afternoon.

 

It ebbed off a little in the following days, as Stiles seemed to find his footing again after the realization that these two men, well, they were as close to family he’d had since his father was killed.

 

They didn’t get angry when he followed them around for entire days, just let him be and quietly offered him things to do which would allow him to stay near them. They didn’t get angry when he woke them with nightmares, or when he popped too much adderall in an attempt to stay awake - they did take the bottle of pills from him, sitting down with him and talking with him.

 

And, if after their talk Stiles still didn’t want to sleep, could still feel the nightmares creeping up on him, Peter gave him a topic he knew Stiles would want to know about, letting him research until he collapsed into a tired sleep. It wasn’t healthy, but it was healthier than popping adderall and consuming too much caffeine.

 

Peter might also sometimes cheat and dissolve a sleeping pill in a mug of tea.

 

By the time another week had gone by, they had settled into a still-somewhat-tentative family unit, and Joseph and Peter had finally felt like they could offer Stiles the adoption papers, fairly sure that he would understand that they didn’t want to replace his dad.

 

Their feelings weren’t even near paternal, but they weren’t about to let Stiles know that.

 

They hadn’t exactly expected Stiles to take the papers and lock himself in his room, where he stayed for the next couple of hours. Stiles had come out for dinner, but that had been spent in a contemplative silence.

 

It didn’t exactly feel awkward, but Joseph and Peter were still not comfortable with the normally chatty boy clamming up again. Because of them, and them possibly having misread the situation.

 

Of course, Stiles chose the best moment to finally talk again, after having considered the offer of adoption - and having called Danny to have an emotional talk with his best friend, of course. Danny’s opinion would forever matter to Stiles, which the Hawaiian knew very well considering he was very careful in never making decisions for Stiles.

 

This time, he had told Stiles to go for what he wanted, no matter what.he  _ thought _ he should or shouldn’t want. Follow his feelings, and “stop second-guessing them and yourself, Stiles”.

 

So Stiles decided to finally leave his room again late in the evening, pausing in the doorway to the living room when he caught sight of Joseph and Peter cuddling on the couch, Joseph whispering something under his breath to Peter, nosing the side of his throat as he did so.

 

It looked very intimate, and Stiles was tempted to turn around and leave them to it. It wasn’t very often that they let their guard down around anyone, even though Stiles knew how much they loved each other. It seemed that, no matter how sad it was, they still had it somewhat ingrained that they couldn’t be so open in their affection around others.

 

Some days, Stiles really wanted to strangle Talia Hale for the damage she had done.

 

“I signed the papers.” Stiles spoke up, and he was treated to the sight of Peter damn near toppling off the couch, startled.

 

Both men turned to look at Stiles, eyes wide and - did Joseph’s eyes just change color? Peter’s eyes weren’t normally that bright, right? And - yes, those were fangs.

 

All three blinked stupidly at each other, Joseph and Peter struggling a little to pull their wolves back after the sudden surprise. Before his words finally registered, and a slow smile spread across Joseph’s face.

 

“We’re glad, darling.”

 

Stiles was still staring at Peter, blinking slowly even as Joseph leapt off the sofa, pulling him into an embrace. Peter looked more than a little amused at how Joseph hadn’t yet realized how they had just revealed themselves, even continuing to reveal more as Joseph tucked Stiles’ head a little forcefully underneath his chin.

 

Like a werewolf would do when they wanted their pup or beta to get a good, calming lungful of their scent.

 

It just pulled a questioning squeaking noise from Stiles, and Peter couldn’t hold it in anymore. He snorted, loudly.

 

“I suppose this would be as good a time as any to mention that we are werewolves, right Joseph?”

 

Joseph pulled back just far enough to blink at Peter, gobsmacked look on his face. It looked humorous enough that Stiles just had to grin.

 

“Werewolves, huh?”

 

“Yes, well, we - yes.” Joseph stuttered a little, and Stiles, well, Stiles could let it go, for a moment. It was clear to him that for now, the two men were the ones who needed to find their footing a little for the upcoming conversation, just like Stiles had to gather his thoughts about the adoption.

 

“We can talk about it tomorrow.” Stiles offered, and Joseph gave him a little smile even as he started steering Stiles to the sofa, pushing him down so that they could bracket the boy between them. “I just needed to - well, I signed the papers because I want to stay here. You’re family but I can’t - look, no one can replace my dad, but I really like it here.”

 

The word Stiles was wanting to use was love, because he did love it here, with the two Hales he was slowly growing to love just as much as the space and care they offered him.

 

There was just nothing familial about that love, and no matter what, he wanted to make that clear to them. He wanted to be a part of their family unit, but like he said, no one could replace his dad. Just like no one could replace his mom.

 

“That’s what the adoption papers are for, pup.” Peter spoke up, and the endearment got him a confused little smile from Stiles and a look from Joseph who could feel the - definitely  _ not _ familial - love behind the simple word. “The papers will make it official, will allow for you to stay with us. Outsiders might think we are becoming your parents, but it’s none of their business how we define our relationships.”

 

Peter, Joseph mused, always had a knack for wording things so innocently while also hiding his intentions right in the open. Relationships, his ass. Peter was being none too subtle - for Joseph that is - in insinuating what type of relationship he would like to have.

 

He’d have to have a talk with Peter again tonight when they were alone. Not to dissuade his partner, because he made it his business not to be a hypocrite, but to make sure that Peter wouldn’t pressure Stiles, that they wouldn’t put it on the boy.

 

Christ, they were in love with the sixteen-year-old boy they had just officially adopted.

 

\--

 

“So are all of the Hales werewolves?”

 

Joseph nearly jumped out of his skin, and Stiles grinned happily at having once again successfully snuck up on a werewolf with heightened senses.

 

Peter snorted even as he folded up his newspaper, trading it in for some work-related documents.

 

“No, not all of us are. We’re technically a werewolf family, but every kid born between two werewolves - or a werewolf and a human - has about 25% chance of being human. Madeleine, my sister, is human, even though our parents were both werewolves.”

 

“So Cora?”

 

“Werewolf.”

 

“She  _ is _ terrifying.” Stiles muttered under his breath.

 

Before he could continue his questioning, Peter pushed his untouched bowl containing by now soggy cornflakes a bit closer to Stiles.

 

“Eat your breakfast, we’ll still be here to answer any questions you may have after.”

 

With a little pout, Stiles started eating, humming his thanks when Joseph set a mug of coffee down in front of him.

 

If they were entirely honest, the two men were a bit surprised by the ease of which Stiles had accepted what they were. He had only shown curiosity so far, and whenever their eyes flashed or Peter casually popped a claw to open an envelope - like the show-off that he was - Stiles seemed to shrug it off and accept it as something that was now the norm in his new, Supernaturally-aware world.

 

Joseph and Peter had both known people who had not taken the revelation quite so well, and some had even had to have their memories taken from them by an Alpha, to ensure they did not blab about their existence to anyone.

 

Because they all knew what happened when people who learned of the secret were terrified of them. They became the beginning point of a new Hunter family, or the latest recruit of an established Hunter family.

 

No, better erase parts of someone’s memory if they showed actual hate - fear induced or not - than to let them go and talk about all their secrets to listening Hunters.

 

It was the main reason they had been so uncertain about revealing their secret to Stiles, because they hadn’t wanted to lose him. The easy acceptance they had gotten instead just made them love Stiles even more.

 

“Do you have knots?”

 

Joseph spat out his coffee across the table, soaking Peter’s papers. Who didn’t seem to realize it, as he stared at a still eating Stiles, mouth dropping open a little.

 

It didn’t seem like Stiles realized he had actually asked that question out loud though, as they got a confused look in return for their reactions.

 

A long moment passed in silence, Peter’s eyes beginning to gleam with mischief even as Joseph started mopping up the spilled coffee. Before Stiles’ eyes suddenly widened.

 

“I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

 

Peter’s grin said it all, and Stiles immediately hid his beet-red face in his hands.   
  
“But yes we do, under the right circumsta-”

 

“Peter!” Joseph cut him off as Stiles sank deeper into his chair, trying to disappear through the floor in embarrassment.

 

Peter cut off before he could explain in explicit detail just what those circumstances were, and chose to instead reach forwards and ruffle through Stiles’ hair.

 

“It’s alright, pup. We did tell you that you could ask whatever you wanted to know.” He tried to sooth Stiles, not liking how the embarrassment was souring Stiles’ scent. Not liking it at all.

 

“I’m sorry.” Stiles finally breathed out, and Joseph frowned, ready to reiterate what Peter had just said. Stiles continued before he could do so. “It was a really personal question.”

 

Joseph could just  _ feel _ that Peter was about to respond with something highly inappropriate, but he didn’t manage to cut Peter off in time.

 

“Well, you never know when you might end up banging a werewolf, and it’ll be important information for you to have, pup.”

 

And he ended it with a wink to both Stiles  _ and _ Joseph.

 

Someone was not getting laid tonight.

 

\--

 

Stiles was just a little bit confused. He had really expected that after he had blurted out  _ that _ question, that things would become a little awkward. Because he had, in effect, asked about their dicks over coffee.

 

But aside from a couple of looks that passed between the men which Stiles couldn’t identify, nothing had changed. Well, nothing had changed negatively.

 

He got a lot more hugs, though. Morning, afternoon, evening, it didn’t matter what time of the day, if Joseph was near, Stiles was getting near smothered by the man draping himself all over Stiles.

 

When Stiles came back from school, he would open the front door, kick off his shoes and hang up his jacket, before finding his nose pressed against Joseph’s chest just below his collarbone - the man towering over him and crowding all around him.

 

The first time Joseph had pulled him in one such long hug, where he buried his nose in Stiles’ hair and rubbed their cheeks together at both the start and the end of the hug, Stiles had flailed in the embrace, not knowing what was happening and what to do with his arms.

 

Peter, after chuckling from where he had been standing in the doorway to the living room, had been the one to explain what was going on.

 

“He’s scenting you, pup. Making sure that other werewolves know you’re part of our pack, and that they should stay away from you. We’re just making sure you smell like us.”

 

Peter had ended with a wink, before reaching forward to pull Stiles in a hug of his own the moment Joseph finally let him go again.

 

After that, well, Stiles found himself being embraced or just gently touched whenever he was in the vicinity of either man.

 

There was always a difference in how the two men hugged and scented him, however. Joseph was all-encompassing in his hugs and touches. He had no problem just pulling Stiles straight into his lap if they were watching a movie, and aggressively cuddling him. Stiles often missed at least ten minutes of whatever movie was on because his nose was pressed against Joseph’s neck.

 

Other times, Stiles would suddenly feel Joseph pressed up against his back, thick arms wrapping around him as his chin dropped on top of Stiles’ head.

 

It all felt oddly intimate, and Stiles was having a hard time suppressing the arousal he felt anytime either of them were even in eyesight.

 

In the end, it was a slip-up that happened when addressing Peter, that ended up changing everything about their relationship - this time at a dizzying speed.

 

Eventually, a slip-up when addressing Peter is what would change everything about their relationship once again, this time at a dizzying speed.

 

Stiles would blame it all on Peter’s chosen methods of scenting him. Though he did sometimes pull Stiles into a hug, they were lighter than Joseph’s and didn’t last nearly as long. However, Peter seemed to make up for that by lingering around him, keeping a hand wrapped around his wrist or arm.

 

He also had the terrible habit of lifting Stiles’ wrist to his mouth and gently placing his wolf’s teeth against the inside. There was never the pin-prick of skin breaking, or even the feeling of discomfort. Just a press of teeth against his skin and a tongue flicking out to map out the indents when Peter let go.

 

It somehow felt a lot more intimate than anything Stiles had ever felt before, more intimate than anything he had happen to him before.

 

He had long since stopped trying - and failing horribly - to slow his racing heart whenever Peter held his wrist beneath his teeth. Stiles didn’t know what Peter got from his scent or his heartbeat whenever he did this, but as Peter gave him a considering look when he finally pulled away, Stiles knew he at least got  _ something _ .

 

That was completely shattered when Stiles slipped up.

 

To be fair, it wasn’t like Stiles had expected Peter to sneak an arm around his chest from behind, before pulling him back by placing his hand across Stiles’ vulnerable throat. Stiles’ back was pressed flush against Peter’s chest and had his head tilted back from when Peter had pressed harder against his throat, before he was able to comprehend what was happening.

 

It was just so overwhelming, so different from how he was normally being scented, that for a moment Stiles didn’t realize he wasn’t dreaming.

 

“Daddy…” Stiles whined softly in the back of his throat, melting into the embrace when the arm across his chest tightened even as a deep rumbling growl reverberated through Peter’s chest, making something inside him quiver and melt.

 

“That’s it,” Peter’s lips brushed Stiles’ ear as he spoke, breath hot against his neck even as the hand still wrapped around his throat tightened for a short second, “Just relax for your Daddy, pup.”

 

Stiles blinked.  _ Oh shit _ . He wasn’t sleeping. He wasn’t sleeping  _ at all _ .

  
Before he could get into a panic - a mild one, because for some reason Peter’s growling and scenting wasn’t giving his sudden anxiety the room it deserved - Joseph spoke up as he stood up from the chair he’d been in when Peter had suddenly wrapped his arms around Stiles.

 

“Peter,” He started with a small frown, even as he brushed a hand through Stiles’ hair, “I thought we agreed to let Stiles decide anything.”

 

Wait what? Stiles’ brain screeched to an abrupt halt.

 

Peter was unperturbed, ducking down a little to nibble on Stiles’ neck before deigning to answer Joseph - who was standing way inside Stiles’ personal space bubble.

 

“Mmm, so we did. But I did just hear a sweet pup begging his daddy for more attention, didn’t you, Joseph?”

 

Stiles swallowed down the excessive saliva that was quickly gathering in his mouth. As he looked up - hoping to be able to judge the situation, which was getting more and more confusing by the second, by looking at Joseph - Stiles found himself trapped in Joseph’s blazing golden eyes.

 

A slow blush was starting to spread from Stiles’ cheeks, down his throat and to his chest. But that didn’t seem to matter as he found himself locked in the hottest staring contest of the century with Joseph.

 

It was like the man was trying to read into his soul and Stiles was certain he could make an educated guess as to what exactly Joseph was looking for, if only Peter would stop nibbling on his neck and increasing and decreasing the pressure on his throat rhythmically.

 

In other words, Stiles had no idea what was going on, but he also wasn’t going to stop it if they weren’t.

 

He was cautious - or at least he thought he had been - not stupid.

 

Stiles didn’t see it, but Peter could practically  _ taste _ it the moment Joseph’s resistance finally snapped as well.

 

“I wonder. If you’re our pup’s daddy, then who am I?” Though the question was aimed at Peter, Joseph made sure to catch Stiles’ eyes even as he voiced it, reaching out to caress Stiles’ cheek even as he patiently waited for an answer from the overwhelmed boy.

 

“I don’t-” Stiles tried, cutting himself off. “It’s not like - I just -”

 

“Oh pup, we’re not going to judge you for anything.” Joseph soothed as he moved even closer, sandwiching Stiles completely between the two Hales.

 

The sudden pressure of Joseph’s body against his front caused his body to move back more firmly against Peter, and Stiles felt what was obviously a rather impressive erection pressing against the small of his back.

 

And when he felt Joseph’s length pressing against his hip, Stiles just stopped fighting everything.

 

“ _ Papa _ .” Stiles’ whine was answered with a rumbling growl that managed to sound both pleased and possessive.

 

“There’s a good pup.” Peter hummed approvingly

 

Peter let his grip on Stiles’ throat loosen a little when Joseph’s hand snuck where his dick was pressed up against Stiles’ lower back, before trailing up Stiles’ back until Joseph could tangle his fingers in Stiles’ hair.

 

Tilting Stiles’ head back by tightening his grip, Joseph ducked down to take Stiles’ lips in a bruising kiss, dragging a surprised moan out of Stiles.

 

Peter’s muttered ‘it’s about time’ got him a pinch in the side, though Joseph didn’t pull any attention away from where he was busy dragging Stiles into a downwards spiral of lust by using only his lips.

 

Peter could be patient, for now. He wanted a taste of Stiles’ decadent lips soon, but they weren’t in a hurry.

 

They had all the time in the world to explore now.

 

\--

 

It had been a little over four years since the town of Beacon Hills had lost their beloved sheriff and a year since Stiles Stilinski had been adopted by the two Hale men. In that time, the town’s citizens had some of their convictions turned upside down.

 

Before the divorce of the decade between Talia and Joseph Hale, Talia had been the undisputed caregiver. Everyone knew that they could come to Talia to talk, to have a cup of tea, to share their troubles. And Talia would show up to every event in the town, often giving speeches that people happily attended.

 

But after the divorce, after Talia’s less tolerant side had come to the forefront, the citizens had taken a step back from the Hale family rumors, watching silently from the outside as the Hale family split into two pieces - those firmly on Talia’s side, and those who deferred to what was referred to as Joseph’s side of the family.

 

The Hale family house in the woods had started to run empty, as Joseph’s family started moving into lofts, houses and apartments around where he and Peter lived.

 

The loud disagreement from Talia in broad daylight when her two youngest decided to move into a loft below their father just managed to disenchant her to the rest of the town even more.

 

It was an open secret that the only reason Laura hadn’t moved as well was because she was away to college and expected to buy a place for herself whenever she returned.

 

But as the attention began to turn away from Talia and onto the newly forming family, the residents of Beacon Hills took notice when the adoption finally went through and Stiles seemed to settle into his place.

 

The first time Stiles called out to Joseph by calling him Papa, just about everyone in the near vicinity melted.

 

Much to the amusement of the family of three, who were the only ones who knew that Stiles was only using that particular word,  _ in public _ , because he wanted to be a little shit and arouse both werewolves.

 

They wouldn’t be able to do anything about the sudden arousal and lust, instead just play the loving dads in public - instead of the loving partners they were back home.

 

This didn’t mean that they didn’t get their payback on their naughty pup when they got back home, though. But that was between them.

 

The werewolves that had taken up residence in the area, rallying around them, had an idea of the actual dynamic between them. But as long as their bonds felt pure, no one was being forced and each of them was willing, they didn’t interfere.

 

Derek had sat down with Stiles for a truly awkward conversation in which he tried to ask whether Stiles had been forced into anything - even though Derek hated to think something like that about his dad.

 

His uncle Peter was a bit more sleazy in general, so Derek wouldn’t be too surprised about some coercion from his side.

 

Having been reassured - loudly, and many times - even Derek had eventually backed off and given his blessings.

 

For the werewolves whom Joseph was now the chosen Alpha off, the three of them being together and happy wasn’t an issue. For their few human members, however, they kept the secret.

 

Danny, though he was Stiles’ best friend, would probably never know of his actual relationship with Joseph and Peter. He would likely not approve, considering it an abuse of power as Stiles’ guardian.

 

Or he might approve, or learn to not mind it, but Stiles really didn’t want to take that chance. So Danny would just keep on happily believing that Stiles had truly found a new home.

 

And he had.

 

For the pack that was forming around Joseph, Peter, and Stiles, it was no surprise when late one night, as everyone was sleeping, Joseph’s beta golden eyes flashed before bleeding into the brilliant red hue of a True Alpha. All over the living district, werewolves settled into an easy sleep as the bond with their new Alpha snapped into place.

 

Stiles just turned around in bed, caught up in a pleasant dream unaware of the shift, and buried his face in his Papa’s chest. Joseph’s status in the pack didn’t matter to him or Peter - he was just  _ theirs _ .


End file.
